Henry's Christmas Wish
by bstix
Summary: Set during S1. Regina and Emma take Henry to visit Santa where he inadvertently wishes for a happy Christmas filled with love and family. On Christmas morning he wakes to find everything is different... A two-shot for the holidays.
1. Part One

**December 18th**

"You're late, Miss Swan," Regina coolly said when Emma entered Granny's diner and approached the booth her son and his mother were occupying.

"By like thirty seconds," Emma volleyed, ready to unload on the brunette before she saw her son's expression and decided to hold back. Seeing the empty mugs on the table, Emma added warmly, "Ready to go, Kid?"

"I will determine when we leave," Regina said after standing and drilling her dominance directly into Emma's eyes. Both women quelled the desire for their hormones to dictate their actions, regardless of the public nature of their current predicament.

"I thought we agreed to be civil. For the Kid. Having us both there is what we arranged," Emma uttered quietly enough so that only Regina could hear. Instinctively they turned and saw the despair creep into Henry's eyes as he witnessed his mothers verbally spar over him once more.

"Time to see Santa?" Regina said with fake enthusiasm that almost passed as the real thing.

"Yes. Though let's not pretend it's actually Santa or one of his helpers that I'm meeting this year. I know I am going to see whatever overweight man you found in the town that was willing to dress up in a red suit. Just like we did last year, and the year before that, and the year before that," Henry said as he rose from the booth, and showed his disdain that his simple gesture to let Emma take him had backfired tremendously. Regina had been jealous and highly reluctant to part with this tradition and had therefore invited herself to join them.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Emma said trying to infuse the Christmas spirit as she followed him out of the door. "Besides, what gives? You believe in fairy tales, but not Santa Claus?"

"I believe enough so that Santa, AKA, Mom, still brings me gifts," Henry whispered wryly to only Emma before his other mother caught up with them.

"Then, why did you ask me to take you?" Emma asked confused.

"You never got the chance to. After this year, going to see Santa will just be sad." Henry may have intended for the words to be only for his blonde mother, but both heard. Emma felt unable to process the sweetness of Henry's gesture, which had hurt Regina in equal measure.

"Well, if this is to be the last time, then we shall make the most of it. All of us, together," Regina said through gritted teeth. She was seething that not only was Emma impinging, but her son was slipping from her grasp as he matured.

"We'll walk there," Henry called as he saw both of the adults naturally walk towards their vehicles. He would do anything to avoid conflict, even walking in the bitter cold and listening to his parents complain about it.

* * *

"Good to see you, young man," the Santa declared with a sense of chipperness that only the perpetually jolly could successfully portray without being irritating.

"Hi, fake Santa," Henry replied, his solemnness on full display. The man in the red suit debated correcting the boy but saw the futility of doing so immediately.

"So," he began, hoping his latest customer would fill in the gap.

"Henry." He may have obliged, but he wasn't feeling any of the excitement meeting Santa had previously brought him.

"So, Henry. What would you like for Christmas this year?"

Henry was about to spout off his prepared answer about toys and games, until, his attention was broken by hearing Emma loudly say, 'hey' from behind him. He turned and looked at his mothers, who both ceased their conversation immediately and greeted his stare with a forced smile. Henry sighed and returned his focus to the expectant man who gave him an understanding smile. The action made Henry forget social normality and state exactly what he had silently wished for.

"I want a proper Christmas. One that's full of love and laughter. I want to feel like I am part of a family." Henry was thoroughly dejected, and everything from his tone to his slumped shoulders conveyed this easily. Knowing that his extended family was here in Storybrooke, but their cursed personas didn't know their connection to him, secretly tore his heart apart. It wasn't that Regina hadn't made him the center of her world, but laughter wasn't something he associated with her.

"It seems like your, Moms?" Santa said with uncertainty, feeling pleased when Henry nodded, "Love you," he added.

"They do. In their own way. There's a lot of tension there though." Henry was now thinking about the fairy tale world that he was working with Emma to expose at his other mother's expense. Complicated didn't appropriate cover the dysfunctional nature of his relationships with his parents.

"Well, love is the strongest magic of all. Believe a little, and amazing things can happen." Henry nodded dubiously and examined his moms, who were continuing to smile in his direction while bouncing in the cold to keep warm. He was certain that both women would move the earth for him and that it was because of this, they fought each other with such conviction. After absorbing Santa's words, a trickle of hope entered Henry's heart that tomorrow could be a Merry Christmas. Minimally, it would certainly be different as Emma was invited to dinner; it wouldn't just be him and his mom for the first time in his life. All he had to do was keep them from killing each other over the roast potatoes.

"Thanks, Santa!" Henry called gleefully, hugging him, already feeling the warmth of optimism. As he held Santa a little longer than was perhaps necessary, and the focus of the crowd was on the pair. Therefore, no one saw the air around them twinkle slightly as a little Christmas magic found its way to Storybrooke and covered the boy.

"Just believe," he said with a wink before they posed for their photograph. Henry's beaming grin brought warmth and joy to his mothers whose expressions mirrored his. Both relished and appreciated their son had participated in giving them this memory.

* * *

 **Christmas Day**

Henry yawned and sleepily turned onto his side, only to realize he wasn't alone in his bed. Before he could open his eyes, he felt his cheek being licked and his nose being simultaneously tickled by fur. He felt relief when he discovered the source of both sensations was a golden retriever that had nuzzled into his side.

"Hey, where did you come from?" Henry asked as he began to pet the dog lightly before looking at his tag that was hanging from a bright red seasonally-appropriate collar. "Biscuit," he said, reading the name. The dog tilted his head in affirmation. "Oh my God. She got me a dog for Christmas!" Henry practically squealed with excitement.

Henry sprinted out of bed with Biscuit in tow, almost slipping on the landing, before careening down the stairs toward the smell of coffee and pancakes. His motion was suddenly halted when he saw his blonde mother, in winter pajamas, sipping coffee at the kitchen island.

"Emma?" He asked thoroughly confused, for she had said goodnight after the Christmas Eve service and wasn't supposed to be coming over until later that afternoon.

"Emma? Kid, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, why?"

"You haven't called me Emma in years," she said looking hurt at the use of her Christian name; her wide smile that greeted him had now disappeared.

"Huh?" _Years?_ Henry wondered. He'd only met Emma a few months ago.

"Merry Christmas my little Prince," Regina exclaimed with excessive brightness as she entered the room, having been preoccupied with setting the dining room table for their traditional grand Christmas. He was shocked to see that not only was his mother wearing pajamas, but the whimsical penguin pattern they adorned matched Emma's. She ruffled his hair as she passed before placing a swift kiss on Emma's lips on her way to the stove to start heating the eggs. Her actions were so distracting that Henry hadn't noticed that Biscuit had sat next to him.

"Wait, what?" Henry's confused expression turned into one of awe when Emma rose to approach him, and her diamond engagement ring twinkled as it refracted the rays from the overhead lights. The back of her right hand now rested on his forehead, seemingly searching for a medical ailment.

"He doesn't have a fever," she said to a now perplexed Regina, her voice full of concern.

"Of course not. I'm fine!" Henry declared. His brain was in overdrive trying to understand the scene before him. Were his parents performing a ridiculous skit? Was he still dreaming?

"You think he's ill?" Regina asked coming to his other side.

"He called me Emma, and he looks pale," Regina's expression changed from curiosity to one of terrified intrigue. She lifted her hand and rested on the side of her son's face, finally seeing what had caused her wife such concern. Their son looked lost, ashen, his breathing rapid.

"Henry, do you need to sit down?" Regina asked softly, starting to rub his back, hoping it would calm him. The canine at his feet felt his distress and started to whimper.

"You guys are married? And we have a dog?" He asked with a tremble in his voice, backing away from them.

"Maybe he hit his head? We should take him to the hospital," Emma suggested, her voice demonstrating her alarmed state.

"Guys, no. I'm not hurt, I'm..." Henry stammered while begging the lightbulb to come on in his brain to explain this scenario. Could this be a dream or had he awoken in an alternative reality? A different realm? It was certainly possible, he had read about such things in his storybook. He looked at his parents planning his next move when he appreciated that love was the dominant force between them. His parent's being a couple, together like this wasn't something that had ever occurred to him, but he immediately liked the notion of it.

"Then what's wrong, Henry?" Regina asked, maintaining distance but closing their physical gap with gentle, soothing words.

"I, I was still dreaming I think. Biscuit woke me from it. I'm fine. I promise. I'm sorry for scaring you both." The boy's voice gained strength as he spoke. His stammered explanation seemed to calm his parents, for the furrowed lines of their brows softened. It was then that he noticed Regina looked a little older, with a few more lines around her eyes. As far as he could tell, Emma looked as she had yesterday.

"So, you're okay?" Regina inquired, slowly approaching him.

"Yes! I'm great. Morning Moms! Merry Christmas!" He said rushing forward to hug them both simultaneously to cease their staring. As foreign as this was, to be held by them as a family, he wanted to prolong this experience for a long as he could. In this moment he didn't care why he was experiencing an alternate reality, he just wanted to enjoy it.

"Merry Christmas Kid," Emma said as she checked his head for bumps to be sure they weren't dealing with a concussion. She couldn't refrain from doing so.

"I think I heard Santa last night," Regina teased, hoping to get their Christmas morning back on track.

Henry's eyes lit up with anticipation before he turned and ran toward their mantle in the living room. He became stoic with wonderment after entering, for he had never seen their living room decorated this way. The tree was incredibly similar, however, many of the ornaments were unknown to him and appeared to be homemade. There was plush blankets on a different, less formal couch. Snowman decorations were plentiful and had created a winter wonderland.

What drew his attention to most though was the mantlepiece and the picture that hung above it. The tasteful artwork the hung there was replaced by a family portrait of the three of them. He suspected he was around five years old when it was taken. Resting on the mantle's surface were pictures of what he could only presume was his mother's wedding day. In another frame was him in his school uniform, both his moms by his side, smiling, and radiating happiness. His wished he had the memories these pictures implied should exist. He lifted each, in turn, analyzing them for clues before he finally turned to the door, where he sensed his mother's standing gazing at him and sharing a fretful look.

"Moms, I'm fine," Henry said giddily. He still couldn't quite fathom this life he was being presented with. They were a family and had been for a long time. He knew he had to act as they expected or he was going to be spending his day around doctors and having a long conversation with Archie. Desperate to conform, he wondered if the routine would be the same as it was when it was just him and Regina. "I get to open Santa's gifts before breakfast, right?"

"Yes," Regina answered hesitantly. "Henry are you quite sure you are okay? Your acting, well, differently."

"Mom, I'm great. I'm really happy. How about you guys sit and tell me again how you met while I get tangled in tape and ribbon?" Henry was rather pleased with his plan, not only would the attention not be on him, be he could also gather background information about his new life might help him understand what was happening.

"You want to hear about how you brought us together? Shocking," Emma teased, nudging Regina's elbow. They smiled at each other, and Henry continued to observe them as Regina lightly stroked Emma's arm. The action was tender and natural.

"Always. Tell it like I've never heard it before. Don't skip over any of the details." He used his cheeky grin to convince them he was fine and settled with his stocking next to the tree. He concluded this was a curse of some kind, for he pinched himself to conclude he was conscious.

"Let me just turn off the stove and grab our coffees," Regina said leaving Emma behind.

"You can call me Emma if you want to," Emma delicately said from the doorway. Her rising emotions destroyed any the evenness in her voice.

"Ma, Mom, no." Henry suddenly realized he had no idea what name he called Emma by in this reality and hoped the speed of his speech covered up any errors he had made. "I was dreaming that we were cursed, and we'd just met a few months ago. In it, I wanted to call you Mom, but you weren't ready for that yet. You were, a bit, reluctant."

"I'm here. I've been here for a long time, and I'm not going anywhere," Emma said quietly, before kneeling before him, so he could look directly at her and appreciate the depth of her sincerity.

"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." Henry and Emma hadn't shared sentiment like this before, and it tore through him. He'd liked Emma from the night they met, but he hadn't realized how much until now, that what he felt was undeniably love.

"And we haven't been cursed in years. All that is in the past," Emma added trying to reassure him.

"I was right," he muttered.

"About what?" Henry pulled Emma into a hug so she couldn't see the astonished look on his face or have to answer the question. Fairy tales were real. Emma believed. It had all worked out, and we were happy. Emma was desperate to hold her son and feel that their love was unaltered, and they held their position until Regina reentered breaking their concentration from one another.

"Everything alright?" She asked as she placed the cups on the table.

"Everything's great, it's Christmas! Time for presents and the story!" Henry proclaimed finally turning his attention to his over-stuffed stocking.

Emma and Regina obliged to Henry's desires and sat curled into one another on the couch while Henry opened an assortment of games, stationery, and festive clothing. His planned tactic, while he listened, was to keep his eyes on the parcels and Biscuit when he could, so he wouldn't show he was surprised as the next element of the story was revealed. What excited him most was for hearing how his moms fell in love, not the wrapped presents that were waiting for him.

"Where do you want us to start from?" Regina wondered as she looked at Emma, pleased to see her smile had returned.

"The very beginning, literally. Before I was even born. And remember, tell it like I've never heard it before," Henry replied enthusiastically. Regina gestured to Emma that she had the floor, knowing that she needed to be the one to start the tale.

"Well, as you know, when I was pregnant with you, I was in prison. So, I put you up for adoption, so that you could have your best chance in life. I didn't have anything to offer you. I was young and penniless, I hadn't even completed high school. I wanted you to have a better childhood than I did."

"At the same time, I was looking to adopt, but I wasn't having much success as I was a single parent. Back then the process was a little more rigid than it is now," Regina interjected, squeezing Emma's hand as she knew thinking about these moments before they met were difficult. "I had signed up with a few agencies all over the country, looking for that one mother that would take a chance on me."

"Your mom's file made its way to me, and it stuck out," Emma continued, comforted by remembering that all the pain she had suffered had brought her here. "All I knew about her was that she was a Mayor of a small seaside town and her words which expressed how she wanted to be a mother and couldn't conceive."

"I remember visiting you in prison," Regina said starting to laugh.

"You did not fit in there at all," Emma retorted while chuckling too at the memory.

"No. Wearing a skirt and heels to a woman's prison was an oversight on my part."

"Your Mom was so stuck up, and she thought a lot of herself. While I was this," Emma trailed off, trying to find words that didn't fall into her old patterns of self-deprecation.

"A person experiencing unfortunate circumstances," Regina clarified.

"Thanks." Emma leaned in reflexively, to share a tender kiss. The pause in narration prompted Henry to look up briefly, and after witnessing this action, he appreciated how they were a perfect match. "I guess you could say my mind was made up instantly. You were uptight, but your written words were laced with love. I felt like you had the right balance to raise him." Subconsciously, Emma used the pad of her thumb from her free hand to rub circles into her wife's as she gazed into Regina's soulful eyes, showing her opinion hadn't changed over the years.

"Wow, Lego Batman! Thanks, Santa!" Henry called gleefully, thinking he had to appear enthusiastic about his gifts to not raise suspicion that he hadn't heard this tale previously.

"Santa obviously got your letter," Regina said teasingly. Everyone in the room knew Henry's Santa was the pair sitting on the couch.

"Anyway, I didn't want to meet anyone else, I was decisive," Emma continued when Henry moved onto opening the next gift. "We signed the papers the next day, and I didn't see your mother again until you were born."

"Yes, I was there. Not that I was much of a birthing partner."

"No. That was awkward."

"To say the least," Regina agreed, her head shaking with slight horror at the memory. Henry was practically convulsing with laughter at this notion considering how they had behaved around each other the day before.

"You were born, and at Regina's request, I met you. I didn't want to, I thought it would be too hard to hold you, to gaze into your eyes and then never see you again. In those years where we weren't in each other's lives, I regretted it." Regina saw the agony of that moment resurface in her wife's eyes and lovingly ran the back of her fingers down her cheek in support.

"I'm sorry. I thought it would have been for the best, so you were sure you wanted what we agreed." Henry couldn't look at his parents. Their reflection in the silver bauble in front of him and the honest delivery of their words was enough to bring tears to his eyes. His adoption was not something they had properly discussed and by their demeanor he sensed it wasn't something his mothers talked about often either.

"It's okay. With hindsight, I'm glad I have that memory of you. Your little hand reached out of the blanket and grabbed my pinky. I knew then that I wasn't ready to raise you, even though I loved you." Regina wiped away Emma's developing tears before the blonde shook herself back to happier thoughts. "I handed you back to the nurse and you and your mom were gone. Forever out of my life." Emma looked at Regina expectantly, conveying she wanted the story to move on to their reconnection rather than their separation.

"I brought you here to Storybrooke, and we went about or days. I named you after my father and a man I once loved. You'd cry all the time, more than I thought a child should. I loved being your mother." Regina paused, to consider how to phrase what her motives had been. "There was something unexpected that happened every time I looked at you though; I saw Emma too. I eventually realized that even though I barely knew her, I wanted her to be part of your life. That, perhaps it might hurt more long-term if you didn't know each other. By the time I reached out, she was out of prison and traversing the country in that ridiculous yellow bug of hers."

"Hey!" Emma cried.

"It fluoresces, Emma," Regina noted. "I used my resources to track her down, which was challenging due to your lack of-"

"Employment, address, and desire to pay any taxes," Emma supplied happily. Regina nodded approvingly at this summary.

"We finally met in Boston just before your third birthday."

"Yeah, I was living in my car, and she knocked on the window I was using as a pillow. Scared the crap out of me. I hadn't quite got my life together yet." Emma tried to hide it, but she was ashamed of how little direction her life had following her incarceration.

"Perhaps not, but when you saw each other, there was an instant connection. It was like you recognized your mom, Henry."

"Sounds super cute," he added, playing with Biscuit's ears.

"That's one term for it," Emma acknowledged chuckling lightly. "I agreed to come and stay for the weekend, and, well, I've never left."

Henry gazed at his parents as Emma rested her head on her wife's shoulder as Regina kissed the top of her head softly. He tried to absorb how idyllic this moment was, how overwhelmingly happy this version of his life made him. How deliriously euphoric his moms were. It was a dream he'd never had come true.

* * *

Henry was sitting at the Christmas table in the late afternoon surrounded by family. The snow-covered Charmings had arrived two hours earlier with their four-year-old twin boys and their three-month-year-old daughter. Emma called them Mom and Dad, and they each hugged Regina warmly with no trace of animosity between the guests and host apparent.

Prior to their arrival, Henry had been in detective mode, trying to ascertain as much as he could as to how his entire life had changed overnight. His analysis of their behavior had determined that his moms were essentially the same people that had bickered over him yesterday, but softer. It was apparent that they were a unit and had evolved to complement each other perfectly. Although it made him uneasy, he noticed his parents were inclined to physically connect whenever they could, stealing kisses when they passed or touching each other's arms if nothing else was possible.

While the parentals prepared an enormous feast and he was supposedly playing with his new toys in his room, Henry had deduced he didn't, nor ever had a storybook in this reality. By reading a scrapbook of the local paper, he learned the curse had been broken early years ago by his parents and all the craziness that ensued once people learned of Regina's betrayal had long since passed. The town was peaceful, there was no mention of magic, Regina had been re-elected Mayor, and Emma was a deputy sheriff to Graham, who was still alive and well.

What he didn't understand was why his memories weren't altered like everyone else's. Why he didn't remember camping with Emma in the backyard or learning how to ride horses with Regina as the pictures around the house depicted. Instead, he recalled being given the book by Snow White, going to Boston to find Emma, and feeling scared at the prospect of meeting the Evil Queen. He'd ultimately settled on this being another curse, one he was immune from, but it's origin, and ultimate goal still eluded him.

"Are you okay, Henry? You're rather quiet today," Snow observed as she watched her grandson's focus continuously move between each person at the table.

"I'm great! So how about how you got engaged? Can I hear that story now?" Henry asked hopefully towards his parents before plopping a roast potato into his mouth.

"What's with the memory lane stuff, Kid?" Emma asked skeptically." You've been asking for stories all day."

"He did the same with us. He wanted to hear about us finding each other after the curse broke and all about the kids and the farm," David said.

"Yes, Henry, you have been a little odd today. Are you sure you're feeling okay, or are you working on an operation of some kind?" Regina queried. She and Emma had wondered if Henry was exploiting his new-found love for writing to capture their story. He'd always insisted that their narrative was a modern fairy tale that needed to be told.

Henry noticed everyone was staring at him and he had to navigate the next few sentences carefully or a head injury was going to be wrongfully diagnosed again. "No. I just like hearing about the happy times," he answered honestly.

"Aren't you happy now?" Emma asked, worried. Her fork was lowered, and anguish flickered across her features.

"I'm super-duper happy. It's Christmas day. We're all here and we're happy and healthy. The food is delicious, and I got everything I wanted in presents. I just love you guys and want to hear all about how we became a family." Henry may not have intended for his words to be as sentimental as they were, but they affected the adults at the table equally. Each was touched by the purity of the child's definition of happiness.

"It's not much of a story, I should have made it grander," Regina said drawing Emma's ringed hand in for a kiss.

"I think it's perfect," Snow said, gushing. She too loved hearing the retelling of events like these and winked at Henry. She was also grateful her daughter was sleeping, and her boys were eating quietly.

"It was perfect. We'd been dating for a couple of years?" Emma asked Regina, seeking confirmation.

"Two years, one month, four days, and approximately thirty-five minutes," Regina corrected.

"A little over two years," Emma continued. "And, I had recently moved in."

"You'd lived here for three months, one week, and two days," Regina inserted.

"Not that anyone is counting," David mocked.

"On this particular night, someone came home late," Regina said accusatory, "I had wanted to propose for weeks now that we'd established we could live together. This was to be the night, and I had made a romantic dinner for us. You were staying with Grandparents."

"You're welcome," David interjected.

"But I'd decided to run home from work through the woods. And, well, I tripped and fell," Emma paused, not wanting to be teased for what she was about to say next. Reluctantly, she added, "down the hill into a ditch." Her family rolled in laughter.

"Why is everyone laughing, weren't you hurt?" Henry asked.

"No, it was a soft landing. It had been raining, and I was basically covered head to toe in mud. I looked like I'd rolled around in it for a couple of hours."

"Meanwhile I am in a cute little black number waiting for you," Regina interrupted as she sipped her wine. Her smile was radiant as she recalled how Emma looked that night.

"Indeed," Emma said seductively. "I'd dropped my phone and house key in the fall, and despite searching for what felt like hours, I never found them. It started to rain heavily again so I gave up, came home and rang the bell."

"I opened the door and looked at your mother, not laughing at that moment was the hardest thing I've ever had to do," Regina explained.

"A drowned rat is how you described me," Emma added, her face blushing with embarrassment. Henry felt David vibrate with hilarity next to him. "She looked at me up and down with the most expressionless face I've ever seen from her."

"And then what happened?" Snow asked excitedly, loving seeing Emma squirm in her seat.

"What did you say to me exactly?" Emma inquired searching her brain.

"Miss Swan, if you plan on coming inside tonight, I suggest you strip," Regina said offhandedly.

"Yep. Let's remember it's October. She's leaning against the door, drinking wine while she watches me until I'm down to my underwear, freezing my butt off on the porch."

"I offered you a towel," Regina threw back.

"It was a hand towel from the restroom! What was that going to do?" Emma asked incredulously. "Anyway, once I was granted permission to enter, I run upstairs into the shower, having never seen the dining room or kitchen."

"Yes, I took a picture of it for prosperity, it was quite the table setting," Regina supplied dryly. "While she showered, I gathered up the wine and food into a picnic basket and brought it to the bedroom. You took forever, so, I," Regina started to stammer, realizing youthful ears were listening and it was undoubtedly inappropriate to elaborate.

"Joined her," Henry supplied.

"Um, yes, to help get the mud off her back," Regina said trying to protect her son's innocence.

"How many times do you think they went down on each other?" David whispered into Snow's ear.

"David! That's our daughter our talking about!" Snow said while smacking his arm with her hand. She then looked at Regina and Emma who were making 'must-have-you-now' eyes at one another. "At least twice," she guessed.

"Well, after my shower I was still freezing, so I curled under the duvet. Regina somehow produced this beautiful tray, and we ate our dinner of chicken soup and spaghetti carbonara cuddled in bed."

"It's her favorite foods that don't involve melting cheese between bread or an impending diabetic coma," Regina said matter-of-factly, defending her culinary choices.

"It was ideal, thank you, and the wine was a touch of class if that's important to anyone," Emma expressed before staring at Regina. Their affection for one another was bordering on nauseating. "It was the best carbonara I've ever had."

"It's true. I can always tell mine isn't up to scratch," Snow mentioned while cutting up her son's meat.

"Anyway, between the wine, food, and heat I started to doze off. You see, your mom here likes to write messages on my back when I'm settling to sleep, as I lie on my front. It's usually things like I love you, or take the trash out, depending on what mood she was going for."

"Your mother would mumble a reply back and this night was no different. At first, I asked things like, 'are you sleepy?', 'how was work?', before I asked if she liked my dress?" Emma rolled her eyes at Regina comment, knowing full well she should have asked why her girlfriend was dressed in formal attire on a Wednesday night.

"Yes, it wasn't my finest demonstration of my investigative skills," Emma admitted.

"Little miss deputy here didn't even click then, she just said, mmm." Regina was actively mocking her wife as she filled her, Emma and David's wine glasses.

"In my defense, I was nearly asleep," Emma began. "Anyway, so I'm barely conscious, and I'm trying to concentrate on what she's writing next, and my brain was certain that she wrote, 'will you marry me?'"

"She rolled over, and I saw the blank expression on your face, and I thought you were going to say no. You weren't playful like you had been all night. You were completely serious." Regina said, easily conveying the fear she had felt at that moment.

"I turned to her and in the calmest, most even voice possible, I said, 'ask me properly'." Emma looked at her son and winked at him. His broad smile and captivated expression showed how much he was enjoying himself.

"Indeed, you did. I remained calm and pulled out the ring from my dressing gown pocket. I kept it concise and asked, 'will you marry me?'. Nothing fancy, nothing overly romantic, I just wanted to cement that you'd be mine forever."

"Aww," David, Snow, and Henry said in unison.

With a nonchalant shrug, Emma concluded the tale, "I said yes."

"I can't hear the next part, can I?" Henry may be showing his boyish charm, but he knew precisely what they would have been doing. Adult gross stuff.

"I don't know what you mean. I put the ring on, we kissed and then we went to sleep. I was tired after all the running." Regina and Emma shared a look that communicated all the passion they had experienced that night. It was dawn before they slept, and both called out sick with the flu for the remainder of that week.

* * *

Henry wouldn't have been able to accurately define a perfect day until that Christmas night. After dinner, they all played games together, took family photographs, and had even managed to lure his parents outside for a rapid snowball fight when Biscuit needed his bedtime walk. He'd never felt such a sense of family, unity, and unconditional love. Never had he heard either of his mom's laugh unrestrained, yet that was the dominant soundtrack of the day. Henry knew in his heart his moms were made for each other. On reflection, it was obvious to him. He didn't care that he didn't remember the same past everyone else in his life did. He watched Biscuit sleep at his feet and all he wanted was for tomorrow to come, as his heavy eyes eventually closed.

* * *

Henry rolled over and looked at his clock to find it was 6 AM, which was far too early to be getting out of bed. He snuggled into his pillow after wondering where Biscuit was, before drifting back to sleep as he fondly recalled the best Christmas of his life. Eventually, the smell of pancakes overpowered his senses and made his stomach growl. He didn't understand why anyone else was up and making breakfast on December twenty-sixth. Unenthusiastically he pulled on his robe and matching Spiderman slippers and toddled sleepily down the stairs to find the washed and dressed Mayor flipping pancakes in an over-zealous manner.

"There's my sleepy Prince!" She said with glee before giving him a trademark awkward hug.

"Morning Mom," he replied rubbing his eyes and climbing onto a stool. "Where's Mom? Is she out with Biscuit?"

"Emma?" Regina asked confused.

"Yeah."

"In her apartment I assume. She won't be here until we eat like we arranged yesterday, and I don't think she's bringing biscuits. I can make some instead of rolls with dinner if you would like?"

"Wait, what? She's not here?" _How was this happening again?_ He pinched himself like he did the day before to ensure he wasn't dreaming.

"No. Why would Miss Swan here before seven in the morning, Henry?" Regina was growing concerned as to her son's behavior. He looked confused, lost, and a little pale.

"What day is it?" The boy asked, resulting in a worried, affronted expression on Regina's face.

"It's Christmas Day." She put the frying pan to the side and moved to him, so she could feel his forehead and take his temperature. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. I guess I had a weird dream. I dreamt we did Christmas already." Henry sounded convincing enough that Regina accepted his reply and moved back toward the stove. Compared to his affirmation that fairy tales were real, this momentary slip from reality was nothing to cause concern.

"I can assure you we didn't and it's today. Now let me put these in the oven to keep warm while we see what Santa brought? I know he came last night, I saw him!"

Henry dejectedly rose and laboriously trundled to the family room with the perfectly ornate tree he remembered seeing year after year. There were no pictures of him and his moms, none of Emma and him. All that decorated the mantle now were the familiar portraits of himself, with his mom occasionally occurring in a frame or two. Henry reached for the comforting feel of Biscuit before he stopped himself as he internally repeated that he wasn't real. None of it had been.

Regina came into the room a minute later and as per tradition sat cross-legged in her chair sipping her coffee to watch Henry open his Santa parcels. Her son didn't turn to face her as he continued to stand and stare at the tree trying his best to hide the fact he wanted to cry. He found the emotional strength to behave as expected and he delved half-heartedly into his Christmas stocking. He found it contained the same items as the day before, an orange, chocolate pennies, and a travel-sized edition of Battleship. The same applied to the larger parcels Santa had left under the tree, they were almost identical to what he had received when Emma had been here.

Henry could no longer contain how empty he felt and cried as he opened his last gift - the Batman Lego game he had spent over a year asking for. Gifts had once made him happy. They had been able to ease the emptiness he'd felt throughout his life but had been unable to place or explain. However, they couldn't triage what he felt on this morning. Regina immediately relinquished her stifled demeanor and now sat next to him, perplexed as to why her son was distraught. If there were two things she knew about Henry Mills, it was that he loved Christmas and he loved video games. His reaction didn't make any sense.

"Did Santa get the wrong game?" Regina asked confused. She had got him version one and Emma had the sequel wrapped to give him later. It was the one thing they agreed to coordinate on.

"No, it's the right game. Thanks, Mom," Henry murmured, wiping his tears on his pajama sleeve.

"Well, it's Santa you need to thank. You haven't opened your gifts from me yet. You get those after breakfast, as always," Regina gently said hoping the anticipation of more presents would fix the problem.

"Thanks, Santa," he said barely above a whisper. It was now apparent to Regina that the present itself wasn't the issue. These weren't tears of gifting disappointment.

"Why are you crying, Henry?" Regina's voice was full of love like he had heard during what he thought was yesterday when his parents were married.

"I, just, it was different, and I liked it. Everyone was happy."

"What was different? Who was happy?" Regina pressed trying desperately to understand why overnight her son had changed. She knew things had been increasingly tense between them this past year, especially since Emma had entered their lives, but it was Christmas. She hoped they could spend the day recapturing the elation experienced in previous years.

"It was a dream, like I said," Henry reiterated, starting to gain control of his tears and accepting that what he had experienced wasn't real. "Did you make apple pancakes?" He asked, sounding brighter, bringing with it a little hope into Regina's heart.

"Of course I did. It's our little tradition." Regina smiled and conveyed all the love she had for him as she stroked his upper arm.

"Thanks, Mom," Henry said weakly before rising and making his way to the kitchen, leaving his presents and his perplexed brunette mother behind.

* * *

Henry had remained in a disenchanted stupor the entire morning. His expression barely lifted from the frown that framed his features. When Emma rang the bell, he sprinted from his self-inflicted isolation toward the sound, hoping that her arrival would recapture some of his Christmas spirit that had escaped him.

"Woah, Kid," Emma expressed as he ran into her, her balance almost lost as she stumbled backward.

"Mom! I mean Emma," he corrected seeing her fear when he had called her Mom. "Merry Christmas!," he added excitedly as an overcorrection as he ushered her indoors.

"Merry Christmas," Emma said to him and inadvertently to Regina who came from the kitchen to greet their guest. The tension between them was palpable and already made the air feel cooler.

"May I take your coat, Miss Swan?"

"Yes, thank you. This is for you, or us I suppose," Emma said as she awkwardly handed Regina a bottle of red wine.

"Are those for me?" Henry wondered, indicating the gifts in his hands.

"You bet," Emma said with a smile.

"Can I open them now?" Henry asked excitedly, staring at the Mayor for permission.

"Yes. Why don't you and Emma go into the living room, and I'll get our guest a drink. What can I get you?" She directed at Emma. If she intended for her words to make Emma feel a little unwelcome and uneasy, the delivery was successful.

"Some of your apple cider would be great, thank you. If you have any." Emma was purposeful in her speech, determined to act as a guest in this home should. As a consequence, Emma's tone wasn't warm, and her stance was slightly rigid. Regina didn't even dignify the request with a verbal response, but instead gave a terse nod and fake smile before turning on her heel. She'd analyzed the blonde with a single swift glance and processed how it would feel to rip the cute red sweater Emma was wearing off her body in one fluid motion as she walked away.

"How's your day been?" Emma asked her son as she glanced around the decorated room and the pile of opened presents Henry hadn't found homes for yet.

"It's been okay. Can I ask you something, secretive?"

"It's not part of the operation, is it? Today will be hard enough without-"

"No. It's something else. Have you ever lived a day, then re-lived it?"

"Since moving here? Frequently."

"No, like an alternate reality?"

"No, that's never happened to me. Are you saying you re-lived a day?"

"Yes, this day, yesterday."

"Yesterday it was Christmas Eve, I didn't come here," Emma clarified, thoroughly confused. "So, it's not the same as today." Henry was about to explain further but refrained from doing so when he heard his mother's clicking heels approach.

"Here you are, Miss Swan," Regina said curtly, handing Emma a warm mug of steaming cider.

"Can you call me Emma for today at least? If we are going to play moderately-happy families for Henry, we can at least go by our first names." Regina scowled before nodding her acceptance of Emma's suggestion. "Thanks, this is delicious," Emma added gesturing the mug in her hand.

"Can I give you your gift now?" Henry said excitedly.

"Sure thing, Kid," Emma said as she scanned the room assessing where she should sit. The first time she had been in this house, she hadn't felt the need to conform and simply sat where and how she wanted. Now though, to make this day run smoothly for Henry, she didn't want to irritate Regina and hoped to take the hostess lead on acceptable social behavior. What she wanted to do was pin Regina against the wall and taste her forbidden fruit, but assume such actions would lack an element of class.

"It's upstairs, I'll be right back," Henry called, already running frantically to his room.

"Is he okay?" Emma asked once the women were alone.

"He's perfectly fine," Regina said dismissively.

"He hasn't been acting strangely at all today?" Emma pressed, convinced that if Henry thought he was reliving a day, there would be signs. Regina averted her eyes momentarily, and that was enough to inform Emma that their son hadn't been normal this morning.

"Not at all. He's happy."

"Sure he is." Emma took a large gulp of her cider, hoping to feel its effects quickly to make this situation tolerable.

* * *

Henry regretted demanding Emma came for Christmas dinner about halfway through their meal. This experience was everything the previous day's hadn't been. Not only did laughter not bounce off the walls, but the conversation was also so stifled it was verging on painful. Each had tried to ease the suffering by cycling through common points of discussion, from presents, to school, to the brilliance of the food presented. Nothing had instigated an atmosphere that could charitably be called relaxed. He believed Emma's presence would make this the best Christmas possible, but the reality was the inverse. Christmas's with Regina had always been far superior to this one.

"So, Kid, would you like to play some Xbox after dinner?" Emma asked trying to raise Henry from what seemed to be a depressed state that both women were becoming acutely aware of. "If that's okay, of course," Emma directed at Regina.

"I think that would be great, don't you, Henry?" Regina offered. In truth, she hated seeing her son like this, and despite their differences, if Emma could help, then she would accept it on this occasion.

"Okay," Henry said so quietly it was barely audible as he played with his vegetables. His mothers exchanged a worried look, silently agreeing on an immediate truce and would band together do whatever was needed to save this day. After all, it was for Henry's benefit that Emma was here at all.

"Do you want to talk to us?" Regina asked, lowering her fork and looking at him with empathetic eyes.

"There's no point," Henry began. "You hate each other," he concluded solemnly.

"We don't hate each other," Emma said quickly. "We just disagree on certain things."

Henry didn't want to fight with his parents. In fact, he wanted this nightmare to end rapidly. "Can we play now? I'm not hungry." Henry directed his question at Regina, who failed to cover up the hurt she felt that the food she had been preparing for days hadn't improved the boy's mood.

"Certainly. You can heat some up later when you are," his brunette mother answered, the inflicted pain obvious in her wavering voice.

"Go ahead, Kid. I'll be there in a minute." Following Emma's words, Henry slumped out of his seat and disappeared up the stairs. Emma felt as though she was meeting the real Regina for the first time, as her façade ripped off, as she downed her glass of wine and before refilling it.

"Another?" She asked indicating Emma's glass.

"Sure. So, is it always like this between you two?" It might have been forward, but Emma sensed this was her opportunity to get to the truth. One that didn't involve Regina being the Evil Queen.

"No. Henry was perfectly fine when he went to bed yesterday. Excited about Christmas, Santa, the chocolate log cake, everything."

"And this morning he was acting as he is now?"

"Yes."

"We both want the same thing here. So, if you know something, please share it with me."

The Mayor sighed heavily before giving the piece of information she had garnered. "He said he'd had a dream, that things were different, that people were happy."

"Well that sounds nice," Emma quipped. "Do you think it has something to do with his book?"

"I've never heard him talk about a dream before, but it's possible," Regina said candidly. "Go play with him. I'll take care of the dishes."

Regina rose immediately, and Emma knew the conversation was over. Regina had no desire to continue such a personal dialogue with someone she viewed as the competition. She feared that she had perhaps shared too much.

* * *

Henry went to bed early that night and stared at the ceiling as he tried to understand why he had experienced the same day twice. Why the versions had been in sharp contrast to each other. In one, every participant was happy and had a better life. In the other, everyone was miserable even if they didn't show it. Everything was back to how it had been two days ago. Except Henry now had the desire to get his parents together.

"The Evil Queen and the Savior," Henry kept muttering into his empty room. "It's poetic. Symbolic. Light brightening the dark!"

Suddenly, he grabbed his notepad by his bed and started writing everything he remembered from his alternative Christmas. He pondered on the stories that he'd heard. His moms were brought together through him, he was the force that ignited them to connect. Their romance was not some grand fairy tale, it was human, real, of this world. It was possible. It inspired him to write for hours, detailing every reason his parents should be together. It was a long list. He'd concluded that his happy Christmas had been a gift, a glimpse of what life could be.

Henry slept peacefully hugging his notebook that now contained hope, excitement, and best Christmas present he'd ever received: Operation Moms.


	2. Part Two

**December 26** **th**

Emma pulled the cruiser into the parking lot next to Henry's castle and felt elation that she had found her son. She put on her hat and gloves before grabbing the file and thermos that rested on the passenger's seat and exited into the bitter cold. Henry gave her a sad, despondent smile from his perch in the middle of the structure as she approached but he didn't speak.

"Can I convince you to sit in the car at least?" Emma asked as she felt the harshness of the cold wood below when she plonked herself down next to him. He shook his head and lowered it to stare at the ground. He had been there so long he was numb, and no longer felt the cold. "Well, how about some hot cocoa?"

"Sounds good," Henry said, though his tone lacked any positive emotion. No one spoke while Emma poured a cup for each of them, and even their toast lacked words.

"So, I did a little digging as you asked," Emma began tentatively, "Before I share what I found, I was hoping you will talk to me. Explain why tracking down the man that was dressed as Santa is so important to you."

Henry was desperate to hear what Emma had found and knew the fastest route to that was to play along. Thus, he lifted his head and showed Emma the worry on his face as he navigated through what he'd rehearsed, to explain and move Operation Moms along, "Remember yesterday when I said that I felt like I had relived a day?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I realized this morning that what I experienced the first time around was what I had wished for from Santa," Henry said with such conviction it was difficult to entertain the notion that what he said wasn't fact.

"You got different presents?" Emma asked trying to follow the disjointed nature of her son's explanation.

"Not exactly. You see I wished for a Christmas Day where I was happy and felt like I had a family," Henry said with reservation. He knew his words would cut through Emma's heart before he said them, despite how necessary it was to articulate them. "Don't feel guilty. You love me even though we haven't said it, and Mom loves me, in her own way."

"Even though you think she is the Evil Queen?" Emma said, deflecting Henry's assertion of how deep their relationship had become in a few short months.

"Yes, but this isn't about that. I didn't even know what I was wishing for. I hadn't thought about you two being a couple before."

"Woah, Kid. You don't mean your mom and I, do you?" Emma's gave him a perplexed look. Reliving a day was easier to digest than the concept of her dating the woman she fought with daily. Though, admittingly, she had harboured a fierce attraction for the brunette since they'd met.

"I know, it sounds crazy, except it wasn't. I saw what it was like. You were happy. She was happy. I was happy."

"Wait, are you saying that you lived Christmas day and during it, your mom and I were-"

"Married."

"That's ridiculous," Emma said while chuckling. Henry noticed though how her cheeks flushed slightly, the way she deflected her eyes from his, and the contemplative expression that followed. It filled him with the hope that what he had seen was possible. "So why do you want to find Santa?"

"I want to know how he did it."

"Grant the wish?" Emma asked slowly, her voice full of doubt.

"Yep. So, who is he?" Henry had become far more animated now, relishing that his conversation with Emma was going as planned.

"I don't know," Emma acknowledged while handing Henry the folder. "I looked up everyone I could who fit his description in town and then tracked them down. I made a lot of calls today, Kid. No one confirmed they were hired to be Santa Claus. Most had alibis for that day, but I haven't had the time to verify them."

"So, he's not in Storybrooke?" Henry asked hopefully.

"It's a bigger town than you think, so it's quite possible he's here, and I didn't find him yet. I'm new here, I don't know everyone."

"I'm not surprised you didn't find him. There isn't any magic here." Henry was growing in confidence as the conversation progressed.

"Are you saying that you now believe in Santa?"

"I believe in Christmas magic."

"Right," Emma said dryly. She tried to channel her supportive side, but between this, the curse, and fairy tales, she was seriously worried about Henry's overactive imagination.

"There's no other way to explain it. It was real, Emma. I pinched myself. I wasn't dreaming." Henry stared at his birth mother with big soulful eyes pleading with her to see the truth in his words. Hoping that she would, that he still had her trust. "You don't believe me," he eventually murmured when he could only appreciate doubt from her.

"I'm not going to lie to you. I don't know what happened, how, or why. I do accept that in the last two days something happened that made you think life would be better if your mom and I were together." Emma's heart melted at the pain she saw from her son. It was that look which had convinced her to stay in town and fight Regina on his behalf. "It would be good if we could all get along. It would make things easier," she jested with a wide smile and a nudge of her son's arm, trying to reduce the seriousness of their late afternoon.

"That's why I need to talk to him. To understand."

"Well, to do that you need to be alive, so how about I get you home before you become an icicle?"

"Can I keep the file?"

"Sure, Kid. It's your copy. I figured you had another operation brewing and you might need it."

Henry downed his cocoa in a celebratory manner. He hadn't anticipated the man being the real Santa Claus, however, as he saw the twinkle of his house lights from Emma's car, he wasn't certain why he hadn't deduced this earlier. Wishes don't come true without magic.

Step one of his plan had gone better than expected. Emma seemed romantically interested in his mom and appeared to possess intrigue in his revelations. All he had to do now was manipulate his adoptive mother to see the same.

* * *

"Mom?" Henry said, ready to tackle his mother's belief system at dinner that evening.

"Hmm?" Regina replied as she ate a mouthful of vegetables.

"Were you able to find out who Santa was last week?" He'd struggled to remain calm since Emma had dropped him off as he was anxious to know what Regina had discovered when tasked with the same mission Emma was.

"Actually no," Regina admitted placing her cutlery on her plate so that she could give Henry her full attention. She had expected the news to upset him and remove the smile he was wearing that had been missing the day before. Unexpectedly, if anything, he seemed to look happier at the news.

"Oh, how come? You said you thought it would be easy this morning." Devilishly he placed a forkful of rice in his mouth as he waited to see what, if any, lie his mother would spout off next.

"Well, I looked over the grotto's paperwork, and the hiring forms for the Santa are missing."

"Hmm, it's probably the same guy that played him last year? Not that I really remember," Henry said flippantly, already knowing that it wasn't the same man.

"Mr. Walters has been the town's Santa for many years. Unfortunately, he passed away this past May." Regina stared at her son who seemed to accept this information without reservation. She had expected resistance and accusations that she hadn't tried hard enough to find him.

"Oh, well I'm sure someone in town knows who he is." Henry waited for this to this notion to circulate before landing his mother with the next part of his plan. "Oddly, Emma couldn't find him either."

"You asked Emma to find him too?" Regina sounded suitably affronted, the exact reaction Henry had calculated she would give.

"Yeah, you'd think between the Deputy Sheriff and the Mayor we'd be able to track him down."

"Will you tell me what the wish was?" Regina had been desperate to know this answer since Henry had mentioned it that morning, but had been able to show some restraint when she appreciated he was in far better spirits and she had no intention of destroying that.

"Okay, but first, I love you, and you've always been enough for me. Even if recently, well since Emma's arrival, things have been tense between us." Henry knew that putting a positive spin on their dynamic was important to his plan. Having his mother become defensive wouldn't equate to her opening up to the concept of magic and the Savior being her wife.

"I love you too," Regina said, fear evident in her voice.

"I wished for happy Christmas where I felt like I part of a family."

"Emma," Regina said instantly. The reflexive use of the blonde's first name didn't go unnoticed by either of them.

"Yeah. I had a vision of sorts, where you were married to each other. We'd been a family for years. Everyone was happy."

"I see."

"Do you have any feelings for her?" His bluntness caught Regina off-guard and Henry saw the same deliberation in his mother's expression as he had seen in Emma's. To him, their reactions vindicated his operation's existence.

"No, Henry. I do not envisage Miss Swan and I becoming a couple. What I can appreciate is how, psychologically, it would be something you'd desire. I'll make sure Archie is aware of this development before your next session." It had been exactly the response he'd expected from the brunette. He'd seen enough though to know the seed had been planted in his mother's mind and the long game was one he'd willingly play.

"Oh okay. Just thought I'd ask." Henry returned to his dinner and was about to eat when he added. "I'd still like to talk to the Santa though. Will you keep trying to find who he is?"

"Of course, I will."

* * *

 **December 28** **th**

Emma thought it would be ridiculous to drive from the station to Granny's diner to meet Henry for lunch, therefore, she walked and regretted the decision before even a full minute had passed. Despite dressing for the wintery day that had descended on their town, she could barely feel her extremities by the time she heard the ting of the eatery's bell. It was with great surprise that she found Henry and Regina sitting at a booth with food in front of them, clearly having begun their meal. Mentally she cursed and berated herself for she thought she had the wrong day for her planned lunch date with Henry.

"Hey," she hesitantly said as she approached the pair. "Sorry to disturb you," she added.

"I should think so. This is our time, Miss Swan," Regina seethed back, her eyes narrowing.

"I invited her," Henry said brightly, moving over so Emma had room to sit next to him.

"You arranged for us to both have lunch with you?" Emma asked, still standing.

"Yep. Give me a minute, I need to use the restroom. You guys, talk." Henry didn't care that he was far from subtle. Nothing had happened between them in the past two days, and he was becoming frustrated at how slowly his parents were moving toward their happy ending.

"You may as well sit," Regina said, her frustration obvious.

"Um, thanks."

"It seems our son is adamant that we talk."

"Pretty sure he wants us to do more than that," Emma quipped, unable to not gaze at Regina seductively as she precisely imagined what her son's innocent mind could not.

"He told you that he dreamt we were married?" Regina asked, sounding surprised, only to recall that Emma was his confidant and most likely she had more information than she did.

"Yep, and asked me to find Santa. Who I couldn't track down." Emma noticed the slight flicker of Regina's eyes and realized Regina had been asked to do the same. "You didn't find him either did you?"

"No, Miss Swan. I did not."

"I won't say this in front of the kid, but don't you think that's weird? I couldn't find anyone that remembered hiring him, or even what his real name was." Emma grabbed on of Henry's fries and munched on it as she waited for Regina to deliberate her answer.

"Yes, it is unusual." Regina remained composed, determined not to divulge how impossible it was for a transient to come into town. How it had to be someone that lived in Storybrooke due to her curse and the magic that protected it. "You aren't suggesting that Santa Claus is real, are you? Because if that's that case, I will require a refund on all the presents I've bought him over the past ten years."

"No, of course not. I think we can agree Henry has an active imagination. It would just be good for him if we could, perhaps, prove that this time it wasn't real."

"Isn't the notion of you and I shacking up enough to demonstrate the absurdity of this concept?" Regina could no longer hold Emma's gaze, and the blonde immediately knew the Mayor was lying, thanks to her superpower. She narrowed her green eyes and scrutinized her apparent nemesis debating how to approach the idea that maybe it wasn't as irrational as they first thought. Secretly both had imagined how their lives could meld since Henry had mentioned their fantasy marriage and now they were finding it difficult to keep this fact undisclosed to the other.

"Here's your favorite, Emma. Grilled cheese," Ruby said placing it in front of the surprised recipient, which interrupted her concertation on developing a suitable comeback. At the same time Henry returned from his unnecessary bathroom break and sat next to Emma, pushing her into the wall.

"Really Miss Swan? Can't you expand your culinary horizons beyond melting cheese between bread? It would be nice if we could teach Henry something about a balanced diet in his formative years," Regina jibed, appreciating the distraction and ability to rediscover her dominance.

"Well first, I didn't order this, and second, it's not my favorite-" Emma responded defensively.

"I ordered it for you," Henry said leaning over and grabbing his burger and water, confusing all the adults. "Thought you guys could eat lunch together while I read my book over there." Before anyone could speak in rebuttal, Henry was making his way to the counter.

"Well, let me know if you need anything else," Ruby said chuckling to herself leaving the two stunned women to their privacy.

"Does he think this is a date?" Emma asked nervously.

"I sincerely hope not. I can assure you that our first date would not be lunch at Granny's with half the town staring at us," Regina said with such disgust, Emma felt that the notion had infuriated Regina on a personal level.

"So, how would that go? A first date with you?" Emma wondered, her interest piqued.

"Between you and I?" Regina looked affronted once more.

"No, no," Emma stuttered, backtracking while trying to not choke on her water. "I meant in general. I'm just making conversation. For the Kid. Let's just talk and make it seem like we're getting along. He's at least smiling today."

"I see. Well, hypothetically, for you I'd invite you over for dinner. Perhaps get a vegetable down your throat." Emma laughed with enough conviction that it reached her eyes, which twinkled slightly. Regina saw the humor in the scenario and mirrored her reaction.

Henry and Ruby shared a telling a look as they watched both women relax and appear to have a natural, organic, unforced conversation. "They're flirting with one another," Ruby whispered to Henry whose smile was now taking up his entire face.

"You think so?"

"See the way Emma keeps touching her neck and the way Regina keeps looking at her and then looks away just as quickly?"

"Yeah."

"Classic flirting."

"So, they do like each other?" His giddiness at having a third party unprompted see his moms suitability for each other had him fidgeting for he literally could not contain his excitement.

"People, who fight as they do? It usually means they like each other and don't know how to deal with it," Ruby said with a wink. Ruby had made him feel his operation had real potential for success and it filled him with unquantifiable joy.

"Oh! Well, I should leave, so they don't feel awkward!" Henry nearly sprinted to his mother's booth and struggled to be composed enough to speak, even though he knew he needed to be. "I'm gonna go across the street to the library, I need a new book to read, if that's okay?" When he asked the question, both women looked at the other to permit his request.

"That's fine, Kid. I should get back to the station anyway," Emma replied, starting to pack up her half-eaten sandwich.

"Yes. I should get back to the office too. Come by once you are done, and you can read there," Regina directed, clarifying she was the rule-maker in this boys life.

"Can't you guys stay longer?" He saw them stare at each other and realized he was forcing it. "You know, I appreciate you both trying to make peace for me. That was nice. Just one thing, though. If you had a male golden retriever, what would you name it?"

"Biscuit," Regina and Emma answered in unison. Henry opened the folded paper in his hands to show he'd written the same name. His moms were stunned. "Okay, well I'll leave you guys to think about that. Thanks for lunch." With a wry smile, he left the diner knowing his little match-making lunch date had gone to plan. Operation Moms was in full swing once again.

"That was weird," Emma said deflecting.

"Yes," probably a popular name for such a dog. Regina said placing bills on the table to pay. "Have a good afternoon, Miss Swan."

"You too Madame Mayor," Emma playfully replied.

Both women left the diner unable to think of much else that afternoon other than deconstructing the conversation in which they had just participated. Who had been the untraceable man that had apparently shown Henry them as a family? Why was it that when they removed the animosity from their conversations was it easy for them to be around Henry's other parent? The dominant thought though was whether they should act on the feelings that coursed through them when the other was near.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when Regina found herself pacing her office wondering how Emma Swan of all people was the one for which she had fallen. Mr. Gold had long ago asserted that Emma was, who she suspected, the Savior, and with everything changing in Storybrooke since her arrival, this suspicion was practically confirmed. What she could not ascertain was whether Emma or Henry knew of the blondes' real identity and how it related to the curse that had inevitably brought them together.

Thinking about the situation strategically, she needed Emma not to believe, so that the curse could continue, and if they were a couple she'd be lying to her partner, or the curse would eventually break. Neither seemed like palatable options. Keeping Emma as her rival was the safest course to follow.

Following arriving at this conclusion, Regina relaxed in her chair as her mind attempted to rationalize the choices she had made, including the deaths she had caused. She was so desperate to protect her identity and the fact that she had murdered Graham only weeks earlier. The curse was supposed to bring her a happy ending, but having Snow and David not recall who they are to each other had not filled her heart with joy the way she had hoped. It was why she adopted Henry, she needed love in her life. Was Emma Swan not only the Savior of the cursed but also of her herself?

"Mom!" Henry shouted once again, and this time Regina noticed him. "Can we go home now?" he repeated. His hunger and fatigue were becoming problematic. Regina blinked at him several times before realizing the answers she had been searching for may lie in her son's mind.

"Your book, Henry," Regina began, moving to the couch and indicating her son should join her.

"Yeah," he answered warily.

"The Evil Queen in there. Do you think she could have a happy ending, like Snow and Charming?" Henry's heart was now racing. Regina had always dismissed the authenticity of the book entirely, she had never indicated the characters contained in its pages could exist.

Henry knew if he had been asked this question a few weeks ago, he would have said no, however, after witnessing the potential softness this woman could possess his conclusions had changed. Carefully and deliberately he chose his words, hoping they would allow everyone to see a truth that had perhaps eluded them. "I think if anyone tries to do good and opens their heart to love, that it's possible."

"Hmm."

"Mom," Henry said before pausing, realizing he wasn't quite sure how to articulate what needed to be said. "I'm a kid, I get that. Things are more complicated than I realize. At the same time, sometimes things are as simple as I see them. Make the right choice, make the hard decisions, follow your heart. My happiness will always depend on yours. I can never be completely happy unless you are. That will always be true."

"I thought you hated me?"

"I don't like being lied to. You lie to me all the time. I'm coming to understand why you do it but it's not helping anyone. Remember that the truth always comes out in the end. It might be tomorrow or fifty years from now, but one day it will be revealed. "Henry saw contemplation is his mother's features and understood that her mind had enough to deliberate.

Operation Moms was progressing faster than he expected and he walked out of the office that afternoon full of hope.

* * *

 **New Year's Eve**

"Hi," Emma said weakly, with a shiver seizing her body, as Regina opened her front door. The last thing she had intended doing this evening, was visiting the Mills residence.

"He's upstairs. He won't stop crying and said he would talk to us if you came over," Regina asserted with a frustrated, exasperated tone. Emma was certain the woman was calling her as a last resort.

"Did something happen?" Emma asked curiously as she followed Regina into the mansion.

"He's been quiet all day and started crying when we were eating dinner, screaming about happy endings and ran to his room." They both produced a telling expression that implied both were tired of their son's determined actions to unite them.

"Great." Neither spoke again as they ascended the stairs and knocked on their son's bedroom door. Seconds past until they heard him jump off the bed, unlock the door and open it with a grand gesture. His two mother's hearts broke when they saw the tear stains on his cheeks and the redness in his eyes. They shared a weighted, concerned look.

"Okay kid, I'm here. Time to talk," Emma said sitting next to her son's left side, while Regina positioned herself on his right.

"I'm too impatient," he stammered, staring at his hands.

"For what?" Regna pressed gently.

"For you two to admit your feelings and be together," he said the emotion in his voice evident.

"Kid-" Emma pleaded.

"No, you don't understand. Everyone was happy, all of us. We were a family. You weren't fighting. You were in love. And the curse, it was broken, and Emma didn't care, Mom," he wailed searching Regina's eyes which were wide with horror. "She moved past it. Don't you both see that if you let go of your fear it will all work out."

"I'm not trying to hurt you by saying this, but Regina and I aren't in love. We don't have feelings for each other," Emma said rubbing his back and shifting so she could hold her hysterical son. Regina sat shocked, not knowing how to respond to Henry's claims. If anything, she was grateful that Emma was preoccupied with Henry's emotional unraveling than the words he had said.

"Can you just try, please? Please." It was with these desperate words that Regina drilled her eyes into Emma and silently debated how to ease the boy's distress.

"Miss Swan, would you come to dinner tomorrow night?" Regina offered. "I'll cook, obviously," she added, hoping everyone would now understand the gesture the Mayor had made.

"Make her carbonara," Henry suggested positively. Regina looked at him with great confusion, for carbonara wasn't one of her go-to meals, therefore, his recommendation seemed random. "It's her favorite," he said dismissively.

"Um, yeah, it is. How did you know that?" Emma questioned, her furrowed brow demonstrating she was searching her brain for when this tit-bit was discussed.

"In the alternative day, I learned that Mom made it for you the night she proposed." Henry purposefully tucked his head back down toward his chest, allowing his mothers to glare at each other unimpeded. Regina knew she would make a homecooked meal to propose. Emma knew that she would say yes, if the person she loved had done that for her. Neither wanted to express their thoughts nor to be the first to speak after this revelation.

"Well, if it is your favorite, I would find that only fitting," Regina said thickly trying to hide that her mouth had become dry.

"That's not, you don't need to do that." Emma stammered, conflicted. She was verging on hating this woman a few days previously and was only making nice for the sake of Henry's festive happiness. Now she was considering coming over for a dinner date. Discombobulated didn't fully describe the sensation.

"Can't you see she wants to? You're both feeling it. You're both believing!" Henry said excitedly.

"Henry, Emma and I are trying to move past our differing opinions on how to raise you because your happiness is what our fighting boils down to," Regina replied evenly.

"Well, that and you're protecting your curse," Henry threw out, determined to push his mother's buttons to get her to admit it's existence.

"I accept that you believe I am the Evil Queen and I have cursed everyone to live here. And you believe Emma is the Savior." Regina words forced Emma and Henry to exchange panicked looks. Regina had never explicitly stated who she believed Emma was and her correct assessment was jarring.

"I'm the what now?" Emma said, delivering her line with surprise expertly.

"You're here to break the curse aren't you Miss Swan?" Regina was confident and had the presence of a trial lawyer cross-examining the star witness.

"I, um. Huh?" Emma unconvincingly replied. It was easier to act surprised with each passing word the Mayor spoke.

"In fact, Henry, if I remember fairy tales correctly doesn't True Love's Kiss break curses? And if you believe that, she and I are meant to be together then all we need to do is kiss to break it," Regina said matter-of-factly, feeling confident that doubling down would prove both Henry's deductions were wrong.

"Yes," the boy replied feeling giddy that his uptight mother was seemingly hearing him for the first time.

"Uh, wait, hold on," Emma stammered when she saw Regina take a half-step toward her. "We're not going to kiss to prove curses aren't real. Even if everything Henry says is true then-" Emma never got to the chance to finish her refusals as Regina leaned in and hovered near her lips, rendering her speechless. Regina didn't want to force herself on Emma – an action she found surprising. The blonde's lips subconsciously parted slightly, enabling her to do what she had wanted to since that night on the porch, taste the Mayor's forbidden fruit. She was being given a free pass at this, as everyone else would believe she was doing it for Henry and not at the whim of her desires.

Their son watched as their lips met clumsily and an awkward, disjointed, unpassionate kiss occurred. All previous sexual tension and chemistry were absent. They parted quickly, and both didn't demonstrate their dissatisfaction at the unsatisfying nature of their connection before staring at Henry with blank expressions awaiting further instructions.

"Nothing happened," he said despondently. "What about you guys? Do you feel in love?" He asked, at least hoping that they had felt something.

"No. Miss Swan and I are not in love," Regina flatly voiced while looking the blonde up and down with a disapproving glare.

"Sorry, Kid. You just can't force things," Emma said, opting to choose words that would soften the loss the boy may feel.

"You're right," he said, perking up at this realization. "I can't force this."

"No, Henry. You can't. We are not in love. We will never be in love. She is not my type," Regina said slowly, deliberately, and forcefully. She had intended to destroy this notion and use pain to prevent it ever being proposed again. Both and Emma and Henry felt hurt by the words.

"You don't like women? That had never occurred to me. For either of you actually," Henry said shaking his head in confusion as he processed this information.

"I didn't say that, nor will I speak to Emma's preferences. She's simply rather too degenerate for my tastes." Regina saw the injury her words had inflicted on Emma through the downward flicker of her green eyes, which raised a bittersweet sensation to rage through her. She had achieved her goal, but hurting Emma had stung more than she had anticipated.

"How dare you talk about my mom that way!" Henry cried standing. "You don't deserve her! You don't deserve happiness, you miserable witch," Henry seethed before pushing past the stunned Mayor and running down the stairs and out the front door.

Emma, still dazed from the words that had been used to describe her, by a woman that she had been imaging herself with, stood speechless. Regina rolled her eyes at Emma's ineptitude and turned on her heel to follow her son.

"Don't," Emma snapped. "I'll go. I think you've done quite enough for one day." Once Regina heard Emma slam the front door behind her, she sat on her son's bed and allowed the shedding of a single tear as she took a long blink. Following which she wiped it away, composed herself, stood, flattened the creases on her skirt, and went on with her night as though nothing had transpired. She wouldn't allow herself to internally debate the merits of hurting those that were important to her to protect her secret. Her curse. Self-preservation was paramount at all costs, even if the price was self-destruction.

* * *

Henry felt the burn in his muscles as he ran unrestrained into the woods that opened out onto his backyard. He didn't move to a purposeful destination, he simply wanted to run and feel the air swoosh on his cheeks. His heart was pounding from exertion when his fatigued muscles demanded he stopped. He couldn't hear anything but his shuddering breath and the thud of his elevated pulse as he took refuge on a log he found with the guidance of the moonlight. He didn't know what he wanted any longer. He didn't understand why he had seen it when they didn't share True Love. His moms had seemed so natural together, almost like two halves of a whole. When he was physically able, Henry started to cry and howl as his suffering increased.

Emma had been quick enough to hear her son's distant footsteps crunch on the forest floor and had correctly followed his path him into the woods. She hadn't moved as fast as he, for she had taken a more cautious approach to navigating the shrubs, frozen soil, and the overhanging branches. She called for him, but he never replied, and eventually, his heavy, rapid thundering of the ground quietened. It wasn't until she heard his pleas to the Gods of fate that she located him sitting, weeping in a clearing.

"I don't understand, I don't understand," he wailed.

"Kid," Emma said tentatively as she cautiously approached him, feeling the rain on her skin and soaking her jeans as she entered the clearing.

"Leave me alone." Emma ignored his request as she perched beside him, taking off her red leather jacket to cover the freezing boy. "Thanks," he mumbled, suddenly aware he had been shivering between sobs.

"I'm going to sit here and wait until you're ready to go back, or talk to me." Emma's words were soft and loaded with empathy. "Perhaps I can help you understand."

"You can't. How does it make sense for me to see you both together, for us to have this perfect happy life if it wasn't to bring you both together?"

"I don't know what you experienced. And I don't know why," Emma admitted, feeling out of her depth with how to handle her son's delicate emotional state.

"Magic comes with a price," Henry continued. "Even Christmas magic, so it was okay that it hurt, that everyone was still miserable because magic had made me see where we were going as a family." Henry looked at Emma and saw what his expression did to hers. It was remorse he saw. "It made sense," he continued, burrowing his eyes into Emma. "The Savior and the Evil Queen. You're good and pure, light if you will, and she is evil and dark. It's practically Shakespeare type stuff, and I've been raised to not even doubt for a second that two women should be together."

Emma scoffed a little before she could reply. "Let's assume for a second that the curse doesn't exist, that's she's not the Evil Queen and, I'm not the Savior. Then all we are left with is our connection to you. I understand the desire for us to be a family. How nice that would be, to have two parents that love you and each other. I've wished for that my whole life." Emma paused as she thought about what Henry's stories offered her. The false belief that her parents were here and once the curse was broken she could have her family. Shaking her head, she thought about Regina and what she meant to her. Hope was the honest conclusion. However, it was one she could not share. In the end, she settled for stating that, "We're just two people who don't agree."

"Except you have feelings for her," Henry pointed out. "You're not the problem, she is. And it's because of the curse."

"Your mother is attractive," Emma said laughing slightly. "But we don't love each other. We barely know each other and God, she's infuriating!"

"And she's mean."

"Or lonely?" Emma proffered, causing Henry to contort his face into a perplexed scowl. "Has she ever dated anyone?"

"No," Henry said quietly, suddenly feeling pity for his mother.

"All she has is you and her position as Mayor. When she's threatened, she protects it. With you, she's like a mama bear. She sees me as lion coming to claim you as prey."

"Lions and bears don't live together," Henry said sadly.

"No. Though, I admit, it would be pretty cute if they did."

"Did you feel anything at all? When you kissed?" Henry's longing eyes searched Emma's, and it compelled her to give him an honest answer rather than a dismissive one.

"I want what you want. A family. But, when I was young I thought that meant a mom and a dad, with siblings, and grandparents. Now that idea has evolved to be my son and his adoptive mother. You got in my head, Kid. It's a nice picture you painted. But it is a fantasy, not reality."

"You didn't answer my question. Did you feel anything?" Emma sat silently, searching for a truth she wasn't ready to admit. "The fact you can't answer me, answers me."

"As I said, your mother is very attractive. She's right though, we're not a good match." Henry focused on Emma's wry smile that tried to hide the subtext that she agreed that perhaps she wasn't good enough for her.

"You know, if she is a Queen, you're a princess," Henry said winking. Emma chuckled back at the concept before Henrys watched her shudder and realized that his mother was sitting in the freezing rain with only a thin sweater to protect her from the elements.

"We should head back. Perhaps grumpy can make you a cocoa."

Wordlessly they rose and started to walk back to the Mayoral mansion as the rain increased in ferocity and lashed down, easily soaking through the last of Emma's light clothes. They sped up, ceasing their conversation so they could concentrate on navigating through the slick terrain, guided by the light on Emma's phone.

"Argh!" Henry heard his mother cry from behind him before he heard a series of thuds and the thrashing of branches, followed with a distant moan. He frantically gathered the dropped phone to use it's light to find his mother.

"Emma!" He cried.

"I'm okay, Kid," Emma called up from the bottom of the small slope she had just fallen down.

"Are you hurt? Should I call for help?" the boy hysterically called.

"No, I'm fine. Just, covered in mud," Emma said with a light chuckle trying to hide the debilitating shiver that wracked through her. "Don't come down here," Emma asserted when she saw that Henry was trying to navigate his decent to her. Obliging, he stood and watched as Emma climbed to him, hearing the ground squelch below with each movement.

When Emma was back on the trail, she grabbed the phone from him, and they slowly continued their journey home. Thunder and lightning added to the intense atmosphere that now accompanied them, making Henry feel increasingly guilty for his adolescent outburst. He repeatedly asked for Emma about her health status, unconvinced that she was unharmed due to the cringing exhales he heard emanate from her and the pathetic pace she was now moving with.

* * *

When the pair arrived at the mansion, Emma leaned against a porch pillar, dangerously inflicted with a combination of dizziness and shivering while Henry rang the bell and knocked feverishly when he found the front door locked. He unsuccessfully pleaded with his mother to take her jacket back, for now under the porch lights he could appreciate how cold and wet she was and felt fear when he saw that blood had stained the side of Emma's face.

"Once is sufficient," Regina said, opening the door, only to cease her planned tirade when she witnessed the state of her soaked son and the positively disheveled mother he had brought with him.

"Help her," Henry demanded, though his call to action wasn't necessary. Emma swayed unnaturally, and Regina knew she needed assistance immediately.

"I'm f-fine," Emma said through a cold-induced stutter.

"Henry, get some dry towels. Come," she said to Emma, offering an arm to guide her indoors.

"Here, mom," Henry said, frantically handing her the closest towels he could find.

"These are hand towels, go get the big ones form the bathroom. The ones on the heater."

"I'm, f-f-ine," Emma repeated in the same unconvincing manner.

"Did you hit your head?" Regina asked with the unmistakable trace of fear in her voice as she analyzed the head wound that was bleeding profusely, before placing the hand towel on it to stem the flow.

"D-don't t-think s-so." Emma's inability to complete her words did little to convince Regina that this was the case.

"Here," Henry said anxiously when he returned, his arms laden with towels to the point where his vision was obscured by them.

"What happened?" Regina asked him placing the load on the ground and handing him one. "Dry yourself," she demanded, seeing that her son too, was starting to shiver from the damp cold.

"She gave me her jacket, it was raining, she fell in the woods," Henry stuttered.

"I'm afraid the best thing for you, the quickest way for you to warm up is to strip. I've already seen you in your underwear. There's no need to be modest. Hold this," Regina directed, referring to the cloth she had placed on Emma's head before starting to remove the deputy's boots.

"You've seen her in her underwear, when?" Henry asked, astounded.

"Not now. Go get out of those clothes, take a warm shower. I'll be in to check on you once I have helped Emma." Emma's hand that was controlling her head wound fell to her side, and all the color she had left in her cheeks disappeared. "Emma?" Regina demanded in an elevated voice.

"I'm," Emma stammered. "Cold," she declared as her vision came occluded and she instinctively reached for Regina.

"I got you," Regina said as she guided Emma to the stairs, where she made the savior sit and checked for signs of concussion with a series of simple questions. They also kept the woman sufficiently engaged with the present that she didn't succumb to the fatigue that Regina could see was close to overwhelming the tired, injured woman. With hurried hands Regina removed Emma's clothes, leaving only the blonde's underwear in place before wrapping her in the fresh heated bath towels Henry had fetched. Continuously she rubbed her hands over Emma's upper arms and legs until she saw Emma regain an acceptable level of alertness.

"I'm okay, now. Thank you," Emma said after several minutes when she could feel her hands and feet again.

"I think okay is quite the overstatement. You're covered in mud, and you're head probably needs a few stitches," Regina quipped, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

"Henry?" Emma asked. They had been so focused on each other they had regrettably momentarily forgotten their son's wellbeing.

"Is in the shower," Regina said tenderly, and both automatically listened for and heard water running. "I will check on him once you are in yours."

"I should head home," Emma said, starting to rise and plan her exit strategy.

"You look like a drowned rat. A scruffy one at that. Do not argue with me. You may shower in my master bath. I will look out something dry and far more fashionable for you to wear," Regina said, her intimidating demeanor and roughness restored now that she could see Emma was out of danger. "I will drive you to the hospital if need be, but it does seem that the blood flow is stopping."

"Thanks," Emma said, feeling weak, not from her ordeal, but rather from the smile Regina sent in her direction, that she returned without trepidation.

* * *

"Well you certainly look for superior in some clothes that were not bought from The Bulk Barn," Regina remarked when Emma joined her in the kitchen. The Mayor was enjoying her planned glass of red wine with her cheese and crackers as she waited for the blonde to appear.

Emma rolled her eyes before replying, "Thanks," having not felt the need to get into another sparring match over her clothing choices. "Where's the Kid?"

"In bed. He's fine." Regina looked at the cut above Emma's eyebrow and scowled. "Sit," she ordered before disappearing into an area of the home Emma had never seen. Moments later she reappeared with a first aid kit and pointed to a stool that Emma felt obligated to perch on.

Henry had quietly followed Emma downstairs and was listening intently to their conversation through the crack in the door. It pleased him greatly when he realized he remained undetected. He had seen how Regina had been with Emma. Genuine concern and fear for her well-being had been demonstrated, and he wondered if he his operation was taking a positive turn.

"He's not fine," Emma replied. "We have to sort things out, for him," she added softly.

"I hope you are not suggesting that we have a torrid affair to satisfy the whim of a ten-year-old's delusion."

"Torrid?"

"One would assume."

They shared a provocative glance before Emma spoke candidly, "We need to make his life better."

"Hmm. There's still some dirt in this wound, Miss Swan," Regina said after inspecting the laceration.

"Please call me Emma. Oww," she yelped as Regina used an alcohol wipe to clean the cut. "There's no need to play rough," she added, her tone decidedly flirtatious.

"Well, Em-ma, that is for me to decide," she retorted, only to tend to Emma wound with only the most delicate of touches. "I'll cover this, but you'll need stitches. It looks a little ragged, so I'm afraid it will scar."

Thunder and then lightning followed a second later, prompting Emma to say, "I'll drive to the hospital when the weather calms a bit."

"I will take you. The last thing I need is for our son to claim I am so cold-hearted that I do not help the bleeding and lame."

"Neither of which I am currently."

"Thank you," Regina said quietly, unable to look at into Emma's eyes as she disposed of the used medical supplies.

"For what?"

"Bringing Henry home."

"He just wants to be happy. Whatever happened over Christmas, it's affected him. He's changed," Emma said thoughtfully. "And the fact we couldn't find Santa. It is curious."

"You're not suggesting that Santa Claus came to Storybrooke and granted Henry's wish of a family are you?"

"No, that is difficult to accept. Just like all of you coming from a different realm. At the same time, we have to get along, for him."

Regina moved back to Emma's side and noticed her wet blonde hair was seeping into the gauze she had applied. With care beyond what was necessary, the brunette moved the errant strands and whispered into Emma's ear, "How well do you think?"

"Um," was all Emma could articulate as she felt her heart skip a beat and her breath become slightly ragged.

"Would this be me being nice enough?" She teased before blowing her hot breath over Emma's ear and down her neck. She knew she was affecting the blonde as desired. "Or is that perhaps a little Evil?"

"Thought I wasn't good enough for you?" Emma threw back, rising form the stool and pushing herself away from Regina's grasp.

"Well, Henry has a point. If you are the Savior and I am the Evil Queen, then, it's rather fitting that you and I, should be you and I."

"I think even if everything Henry says is true, you no longer are the Evil Queen. You've evolved into Regina." The kindness of Emma words confused the brunette. This woman had given her a second chance without her earning it.

"Oh," Regina uttered, finding herself lost and absent of her previous provocative confidence.

"The Evil Queen in that book couldn't love Henry like you've shown me this week, or for that matter shown the kindness you have to me this evening." Emma saw how Regina softened at her words and it allowed her the confidence to continue, "You do have a tough exterior. I imagine you've been hurt in the past, lost someone maybe. It's why you're holding onto Henry so tightly."

Regina glared at Emma. There was a lot she had thought and concluded, with regards to this blonde who was destined to change her life. They stood silent, each trying to interpret the game the other was playing. Chemistry wouldn't be the problem, trust was. The clock in Regina's foyer chimed twelve times, indicating the passing of one year to another. Fireworks started outside, and the silence of their solitude was swiftly ended.

"Happy New Year," Regina said softly, looking at Emma and not noticing she reached for and was now rubbing the blonde's hand softly.

"Happy New Year," Emma replied, studying the signs Regina was displaying to her as she felt the tingles of her touch quicken her pulse once more.

The fireworks continued as they read everything they could from each other's eyes. The desire, the unknown, the possibilities. Both moved toward the other at the same time, which vindicated their bravery in moving forward. Each took one last, desperate breath before their lips met.

This time there was nothing awkward about the connection. Their lips found each other effortlessly, the softness reciprocated. Emma felt Regina pull her closer as Emma ran her fingertips down Regina's side. The kiss grew deeper, and their lips parted as they sought to unite further, only for a shockwave, complete with a bright light and a gust of wind to emanate from them. Emma pulled back immediately and saw the horror on Regina's face.

"What was that?" Emma stammered.

"True Love's Kiss!" Henry screamed with glee, making his presence known as he appeared from behind the door.

"What?" Emma asked, disbelieving what she had just experienced.

"Shit," Regina uttered, her eyes wide.

"Regina?" Emma asked, trying hard not to hyperventilate at the anticipation of what she was about to be told.

"The curse, it's real. It was. We just broke it," the brunette confessed as she paced.

"Henry's book?" Emma inquired, backing away from Regina, worried she was having some sort brain malfunction from her earlier trauma.

"All true," Regina said, lowering her head and starting to pace. "They'll come for me, they'll-" Suddenly, Regina became stationary and stared at Emma. Sizing up the blonde as she did before, but this time through fresh eyes. "You love me?" Regina expressed disbelievingly.

"As you do me," Emma said, shocked.

Henry watched his parents calm each other by holding hands and discuss the next steps required to ensure the Mayor's safety. Emma had accepted it before she knew it was true.

"Thanks, Santa," Henry whispered into the night. He averted his eyes when he saw he parents move in for a second kiss. Henry realized there was one thing missing from the perfect picture he had helped recreate, something he wanted desperately.

"Hey guys," he said interrupting their passion. "I'm going to need a puppy. And I want to call him-"

"Biscuit," the soon to be Swan-Mills clan chimed in unison.

* * *

A/N: I wish you all a wonderful, happy, healthy, and successful 2018. Thanks for reading. :)


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